Compared to classic country, where countless recordings have honored Hank Williams and western swing king Bob Wills, tributes in Cajun music have been scant. A partial list would include Rufus Thibodeaux’s ’60s tribute to Harry Choates, and musician/author Ann Savoy’s 2002 salute to Cajun, Creole and Zydeco with Evangeline Made: A Tribute to Cajun Music and Creole Bred: A Tribute to Creole & Zydeco Music. Eighteen years after Savoy’s odes, Sweet Cecilia honored their father and uncle on the Grammy-nominated A Tribute to Al Berard. Considering how many have followed in the footsteps of the legends before them, why there aren’t more dedications remains a mystery.
The Evangeline Playboys’ Tribute to its late bandleader Austin Pitre (1918-1981) was spearheaded by guitarist/vocalist Bobby Michot in 1999 to honor one of the most iconic figures of trad dancehall Cajun music. Pitre was a talented bandleader who played accordion and fiddle and was strong enough to not use a shoulder strap while playing the loud little box. He’s also remembered for playing it behind his head long before Jimi Hendrix ever became famous for doing the same on electric guitar. Pitre’s 1959 recording of “Les Flammes D’Enfer” became an exuberant anthem of Cajun culture’s rowdy self, and today there’s nary a band that doesn’t have “Flammes” tucked away in its repertoire.
Michot and Evangeline Playboys’ Allen “T-Lan” Ardoin (fiddle), Eston Bellow (drums), Junior Martin (steel guitar), and Mike Tate (accordion) gathered at Ardoin’s outdoor kitchen for a series of blistering jams and bubbling pots of sauce piquant. The first session featured only Michot, Tate, and Ardoin on an acoustic rendition of “Evangeline Playboy Special.” The entire band came in the following week, and it was on. It’s the most unbridled, unvarnished set of trad Cajun in recent memory, the kind not oft heard anymore. Sonically, its ambiance emulates a spacious, rickety wooden dancehall. The beastly Tate thrashes and shreds his accordion, barreling with brute force on the two-steps while sounding buoyant on the more elegant waltzes. Many of Pitre’s best-known songs are here, most notably “Flammes,” but the spirited “Tante Adele Two Step” and “Renee Special” give it a run for its money.
Martin maintains a riveting and occasionally lolloping presence on steel guitar. Interestingly, on “Jungle Club Waltz,” he outlines and walks the chords as if he were a bassist. Michot sings in a classic crying voice in the higher keys of A and D, unlike today’s crooners who prefer lower keys for sustainability.
Granted, it’s not the glossiest thing to ever hit the streets, but that’s not the point. Michot recorded it live on a cassette recorder with a single mic, then later a friend transferred it to CDR. Eventually, Michot’s nephew Louis Michot (Lost Bayou Ramblers, Michot’s Melody Makers) and his bandmate Kirkland Middleton mastered it while retaining its authenticity and emotional purity. Considering this recording has outlasted five presidents, it’s as real as it gets. Just don’t expect to smell the sauce piquant.
